


Perfect Timing

by DeadshotMusketeer



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:19:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadshotMusketeer/pseuds/DeadshotMusketeer
Summary: Complete.  Wyatt centred, whump included.  The present is just as dangerous as the past.  The team is called in to chase Flynn through time, but he has other plans.  A little luck, and perfect timing, creates trouble for Wyatt and he realizes just how much his team means to him, and he to them.  Set after 'The Last Ride of Bonnie and Clyde' and before the finale.





	1. Chapter 1

Perfect Timing  
A Timeless fanfic by DeadShotMusketeer.

Chapter One

In the dimly lit warehouse of Mason Industries, the lifeboat sat idle, reminding Agent Christopher of a giant cyborg eye she’d seen in an old scifi horror film. She’d never admit it, but the thing scared the bejeezus out of her.

She was content keeping her distance behind the computer banks and leaving the mechanics, along with the physical theoretics of space-time continuums to better trained, and less frightened people than herself. As far as she was concerned, Mason could have his time machine, she’d take a drug bust or armed robbery any day.

Christopher understood the importance of the time machine, and preserving history, but capturing Garcia Flynn topped her agenda. And why she’d fought hard to get a soldier added to team.

The bureau wanted one of their own. Mason wanted a senior member of his personal security staff, but Christopher reasoned a soldier with Wyatt’s background brought more value. Not just for his Delta Force training, but because recent events in his life left him more… willing, to get the job done by any means possible.

Familiar with his case, she’d immediately thought of him when pressed to present a candidate for the initial mission. His wife’s unsolved murder, to which he blamed himself, created in him a dangerous mix of inflated sense of justice and dwindling fear of death. Which meant to Christopher, he’d stop at nothing till the job was done.

She’d also read the mission report, where in Syria he’d lost his whole squad, and figured he’d be hard pressed to leave a teammate behind.

Christopher commiserated with Wyatt; those were horrible situations to live with. But fortunately, they made him into the exact soldier needed to take down ex-NSA operative, Garcia Flynn.

“I’m betting Rufus,” said Jiya.

Torn from her thoughts, Christopher looked down at the technician at her desk. “What?”

“To get here first.”

Christopher pulled a five dollar bill from her wallet and tossed it next to Jiya’s computer. “You always call Rufus. Wyatt,” she said, smiling.

“And you always call Wyatt,” said Connor Mason, throwing down a ten dollar bill. “Double or nothing? I say Lucy.”

~Timeless~

Lucy sighed and dropped her cell phone onto the bed beside her. Arms heavy with sleep, she pushed the covers away and swung her feet to the floor.

“Why does Flynn need to leave at two am?” she muttered.

She grabbed an elastic from her bedside table and wrapped it around a handful of hair before dressing and heading downstairs. On her way through the kitchen she paused to consider making coffee. The machine sat quiet on the counter, teasing her with promises of caffeine, but the ruckus of grinding gears would surely wake her mother.

She figured just because her job kept the most inopportune hours, it didn’t mean her mother should suffer, so she grabbed her keys off the counter and headed for the door. “Take-out will have to do,” she sighed.

In her car, she used her Bluetooth to call Rufus first.

“Yeah, hello?” came his gravelly voice.

In the background she heard honking. “Are you in traffic?” she asked, glancing down her empty street.

“Can you believe it? Who in their right mind is out at this time of the morning?”

“Us.”

“Yeah, but we don’t live normal lives, remember?”

“True enough,” replied Lucy.

She pulled her car onto Simpson Street, turning left instead of right to catch the coffee shop closest to her house. It meant taking a different route to Mason Industries, but if she was expected to travel through time in a metal death trap at two in the morning, she definitely needed coffee.

“So, do you have any idea why Flynn went back to feudal Japan?” asked Rufus. “‘Cause I gotta say, Wyatt’s good and all, but ninjas and samurai?”

Lucy shook her head, then remembered he couldn’t see her. “No idea.”

“Did you ask Wyatt? He was excited wasn’t he? I bet there was fangirling. There was definitely fangirling, right?”

“I called you first,” she replied, pulling into the parking lot of her local twenty-four hour coffee spot.

“What the hell!” cried Rufus.

“What? What happened?”

“Some douchebag just cut me off.”

A few muffled words came over the line before Rufus spoke clearly again. “I’m gonna have to take another route,” he said. “Might be a few minutes late. Which, you know, sounds kinda silly when you work with a time machine.”

Lucy laughed. “Do you want coffee?”

“Got some,” replied Rufus. “See ya when I get there.”

The line cut off just in time for Lucy to get out. She grabbed a coffee, returned to her car and called Wyatt as she pulled back onto the street.

The soldier opened with, “yeah, yeah, I’m on my way,” his voice harsh and phlegmy.

“Well good morning to you,” replied Lucy.

Heavy breathing came over the line, followed by several clicks and the sound of a car door slamming. “Are you just leaving now?” she asked.

“Yeah,” replied Wyatt. “Made coffee. I’d barely laid down when Christopher called.”

“Late night?”

Static disrupted the line, like someone sighing too close to the microphone. Lucy cringed. She felt like she’d just stepped on a landmine. What Wyatt did in his off hours was none of her business. And based on his silence, she figured he wasn’t in the sharing mood, and perhaps she’d just crossed the line.

She didn’t doubt his late hours had to do with Jessica, with finding her killer and punishing himself with guilt and the occasional drink. But until he broached the subject, she’d keep her mouth closed. Forcing it would only create a rift between them, countermanding the closeness they’d achieved back in Arkansas.

“Do you know why Flynn’s gone back this time?” he asked.

Lost in thought, Lucy almost didn’t hear him. “What? Flynn? Oh, I was just discussing that with Rufus,” she replied.

“Oh, so you called _him_ first?”

His teasing voice flushed her cheeks. “Um, well…”

“I’m just kidding, Luce.”

She pictured his lips pulling into a lazy smirk.

“Lucy? You still there?”

“Oh, yeah, still here,” she said.

Ever since their kiss back in 1934 Arkansas, she’d noticed how much more she _noticed_ Wyatt. She hadn’t meant for it to happen, but when their lips had touched, that lightening bolt she’d denied ever feeling, had struck right through her. She’d played coy at the time, but she couldn’t deny something had changed between them.

But now was not the time, the job had to come first.

She cleared her throat, said good-bye and quickly ended the call. After a long breath, she gripped her steering wheel a little tighter and turned down an alley, hoping to shave a few minutes off her lengthened trip to work

~Timeless~

Wyatt smiled at his phone’s home-screen, thumb hovering over the end-call button even after the line disconnected. “See ya soon… ma’am,” he said, before tossing the phone onto the passenger seat.

When Lucy was angry, her voice could shatter glass, but when flustered, the slight breaks and crescendos in her voice could rope him in from a country mile. He had to admit, sometimes he teased her just so he could hear that voice.

Feeling his ears burn, he tugged on his left lobe, then cleared his throat and sat back further in his seat. He pressed on the gas pedal, and turned his grandfather’s old pick-up onto Main Street where two glaring headlights whited-out his vision.

“Damn it!”

Wyatt jerked the steering wheel left then right, narrowly missing the oncoming vehicle. A breath of relief exploded from his chest as he checked his sideview mirror. The same two headlights glared in the reflection, growing quickly in size.

“What the hell?” he said, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal.

The headlights disappeared from his window. He leaned forward for a better view right when the car hit his tailgate.

He lurched forward as his truck sped into the intersection. Streaks of light blurred past his window, he slammed on the brakes, elbows locked as he tried to control his careening truck. His sight focused out the front window, Wyatt didn’t see the car on his left barreling toward him until impact.

Wyatt’s head struck the window with a crack, an icy hand gripped his skull. The seatbelt kept him upright and able to control the steering wheel, but the vehicle that hit him wasn’t stopping. It forced Wyatt’s truck off the side of the road, dropping the passenger side heavily into a shallow ditch.

The familiar rush of adrenaline snapped him to battle readiness His dizziness abated, his heart pounded and his muscles flexed for flight. But first he had to get the damn seatbelt off.

He glanced out his window as his fingers fumbled with the latch.  The belt clicked open, he tried the door, then his window shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

_Shit!_

He grabbed the gun in his holster and dove across the seat. He bailed out the passenger door, landing roughly in the ditch. On his feet, the dark night wobbled and spun around him. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and concentrated on keeping his gun level as he pointed it over his truck.

The world pitched sideways. He dropped to one knee, needing the strength of both arms to keep his gun steady. Street lights haloed in the distance, his truck shimmied and shook before his eyes.

Wyatt couldn’t see anything, but knew better than to fire blindly into the night.

His lower left side exploded in hot searing pain, throwing him to the ground before he even heard the crack of the gun.

A double crack rent the air, gravel stung his face.

 _Too close!_ He scrambled to his feet and stumbled into the field beyond his truck, clutching his lower abdomen.

Lungs tight, dull warmth spreading across his stomach and the whizz of bullets rushing past his ears sent Wyatt’s brain into overdrive. Where was his cell phone? Who was shooting at him? Would he see Jessica sooner rather than later?

The rough terrain tangled with his feet, pitching him forward. He reached out with an outstretched arm to steady himself, but the motion sent his head spinning. His arms flailed, his feet tripped over burrows and stones, all semblance of coordination lost.

With darkness and tall grass his only concealment, Wyatt tried to hunch down as he floundered, dripping a trail of blood behind him.

A sharp sting above his left knee dropped him to the ground. He quickly rolled onto his back, gun raised in shaky hands.

No one came, and he realized the night sky alight with flashing lights and the muffled sounds of sirens.

His arms fell to his sides, his lungs sucked in air and forced it out over and over again. But with oxygen came the return of his senses, and the two bleeding holes in his left side and knee were screaming.

And they didn’t stop until oblivion took him.

to be continued


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Agent Christopher paced the length of the conference room table where Lucy and Rufus fidgeted and Connor Mason dialled Wyatt’s phone number for the fifth time.

“You did speak to him?” confirmed Christopher, raising an eyebrow at Lucy.

“Yes. In fact, I assumed he’d get here first. I stopped for coffee and Rufus took a detour.”

Rufus raised his hand. “Traffic.”

Something pinged in the back of Christopher’s mind; a suspicion her brain refused to identify. Years as a cop taught her to trust her instincts, but when they refused to speak up there was nothing she could do. So she kept it to herself for now and shook herself out of her daze. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just…”

“The first time this has happened,” finished Mason. “And, FYI, still no answer.”

Christopher circled the table to her laptop and cell phone. “We’ll get local PD to check his apartment,” she said. “How fast can we get Mr. Baumgardner here?”

A knock on the door turned everyone’s heads. Jiya stood in the threshold, fidgeting and twisting her mouth.

Christopher didn’t like preamble, she believed in getting to the point. “Well, out with it,” she said.

“Flynn’s returned to the present,” stated Jiya.

“Already?”

“What could Flynn do in so short a time?” asked Lucy.

“What can’t he do?” challenged Rufus. “It only takes a couple of seconds to kill someone.”

The hair on Christopher’s arms prickled. The suspicion was screaming now, but still nothing intelligible.

She levelled her gaze on Jiya. “Get the PD looking for Wyatt right away,” she said. “I’ll get a team on Flynn. Do we know where he landed?”

“New Mexico,” replied Jiya. “Still pinpointing the exact location.”

“Well, get on it,” said Christopher.

Christopher’s bottom lip twitched, begging to slip between her teeth. It was an old habit her wife nagged her about since their dating days, said it ruined her pretty smile. But Christopher didn’t feel like smiling, so after a deep breath she started biting. It didn’t settle her unease, but it helped her concentrate. With chin in hand, she ran through what she knew.

Flynn left and came back. Wyatt was missing. Surely they were related? Her gaze flicked between Lucy and Rufus. But why just Wyatt?

“What… what can we do?” asked Lucy.

If Christopher learned anything working with a time machine, it was that time was of the essence. She pointed to the door. “Go. It’s a long shot, but see if you can tell if Flynn changed anything. Rufus, you help Jiya track down Flynn’s location.”

Mason waggled his cellphone beside his head. “And me?”

Christopher honestly didn’t know what Mason brought to the table in situations like this, so she shrugged and said, “you can get me a coffee. Black. No sugar.”

_~Timeless~_

It didn’t make sense. He’d fallen in a field, so why was he moving?

Wyatt lurched right, left, dull knives digging into his stomach and knee. His tongue was so dry he couldn’t close his mouth, his throat stung and he couldn’t speak. Something blew cold air on his face, drying his mouth out more with each panting breath. He pried open an eyelid but bright light above him forced it shut.

“Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?”

Wyatt’s body bounced up and slammed back down onto something soft. Bangs and clangs and wailing sirens tortured his ears, obscuring the sounds of people shouting.

“Slow down!”

“… I’m driving this ambulance!”

Wyatt’s eyes flew open, he lifted his head. A man sat on a bench beside him, blue-gloved hands holding up a needle.

Wyatt threw his arms up but they caught on something sharp and solid, which dug into his wrists the more he yanked and pulled.

His heart raced, alarms beeped and the man beside him forcefully suggested he calm down. But Wyatt wouldn’t listen, he liked to be in control. He pulled on the restraints, thrashed and kicked until a searing pain in his left side stopped him short.

“Sir, you need to calm down! You’re cuffed to the stretcher.”

Wyatt’s body went slack. He forgot his throbbing body in the shock of hearing this. “What?” He looked down at his wrists where two silver bracelets dangled around them, chaining him to the side bars of a stretcher.

An upside down face appeared above him. “Sir. We found you in a field with a gun in your possession. And you’ve obviously been shot. So do us both a favour and tell me what happened?”

Wyatt tilted his head back for a better look at the man. He wore a dark uniform with a radio handset clipped to his shoulder. A mild stubble dotted his chin, and his eyes were rimmed red as if he’d been up all night, but it was the apathetic attitude that cinched the deal.

Wyatt sighed. “You’re a cop.”

“And you’re under arrest. Is there anyone you need me to call?”

Wyatt tried to answer but his lips failed to form words. The world slipped sideways beneath him, his muscles dissolved into thin air. He tried again to speak, this time achieving sound but unsure if coherent. “Mason Industries,” he slurred.

His brain melted to goo as a warm haze swirled in his head. He couldn’t feel the mattress, or the handcuffs, or even the two new holes in his body. A smile stretched his lips. He felt floaty and euphoric. “Why… why am I swimming in Jell-O?” he asked.

“That would be the morphine setting in,” said the man on the bench.

_~Timeless~_

Through the viewing window of the conference room above the debarkation room, Lucy watched Jiya slam down the phone and run from her computer. Only important news would have the technician moving that fast, so Lucy headed out, running into Rufus at the top of the stairs in a tangle of arms and apologies.

“Did they find Wyatt?” she asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Lucy swallowed hard. “What? Tell me?”

Rufus scratched the back of his neck. “Um, apparently Wyatt’s been arrested.”

Lucy’s jaw dropped, a slight tremble shook her body. “Arrested? For what?”

“I don’t know. Agent Christopher’s on her… way… to …”

Rufus’ voice tended to trail off when he didn’t want to say something. Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me.”

“The hospital.”

The small tremor turned into a full body shiver. “What? What happened? Is he all right?”

Rufus shrugged. “That’s, that’s all I know.”

That wasn’t good enough for Lucy. She grabbed her coat off the conference table and dragged Rufus behind her through the warehouse. They caught Agent Christopher at her car, where Lucy flung open the passenger side door without invitation.

“Excuse me?” asked Christopher. “What do you two think you’re doing?”

Lucy locked eyes with her boss across the roof of the car. “We’re going with you,” she said, then dropped into the front seat. “Rufus, get in.”

A short while later, Lucy and Rufus witnessed Agent Christopher bully her way through the bureaucracy of the local emergency department.

They followed after her, close on her heels, into the trauma room, where seeing Wyatt’s half-naked body laid out on a table with blood stained bandages and tubes running from both arms, stopped Lucy short.

“Oh my god.”

“What happened?” asked Rufus.

“Why wasn’t I informed of the extent of his injuries?” demanded Christopher, dragging aside one of the officers in the room.

Lucy and Rufus waited for no invitation and forced their way through the officers and doctors hovering near Wyatt’s bed. The staff pushed back at first, but when notified of Lucy and Rufus’ Homeland Security status, they stepped aside.

At Wyatt’s bedside, Lucy concealed her twitching lips with a smile. Wyatt turned slowly toward her, pulling off his oxygen mask. His movements were sluggish, his face pale, but he still managed to crack his crooked smile which melted Lucy’s heart.

“You’re here,” he whispered. He looked at Rufus next. “You too. What… Flynn?”

The strain in his voice and half-lidded eyes, made Lucy’s stomach flip-flop. “We’re here,” she said. “Don’t worry about Flynn. How are you? What happened?”

Wyatt’s eyes moved around the room, settling on nothing. Lucy put a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention back to them.

“It’s okay, Wyatt,” said Rufus, leaning heavily over Lucy’s shoulder. “No one's listening… if you know what I mean.”

Wyatt nodded, swept his tongue across his lower lip and swallowed. “Flynn,” he whispered hoarsely. “Rittenhouse.”

“Which one?” asked Rufus.

Wyatt’s eyes closed. “Don’t know,” he replied. “… had to be…”

He fell asleep before finishing his statement, and within seconds the hospital staff seemed to no longer care who they worked for, and pushed his bed out of the room. Lucy counted at least six nurses and doctors trailing after him, and wondered how many it would take to stitch him back together?

“I’ve sent people to secure the scene,” said Christopher.

She touched Lucy’s arm, pulling her from her thoughts, then guided her and Rufus out of the trauma room.

Lucy walked on clumsy feet, but found her footing once she stepped into the hallway. She turned to Agent Christopher, unsure if she’d heard her last statement. “Scene?” she asked. “Bottom of what? What’s going on?”

Christopher glanced back over each shoulder before bracing her hands on her hips. “Where Wyatt was attacked,” she said.

“Do we know who did this?” asked Rufus.

“I initially tagged Rittenhouse for this, but it wasn’t clean enough. They’re hands are in everyone’s cookie jars, so it wouldn’t have been that easy to get the charges dropped against Mr. Logan if they were involved.”

“So you think it’s Flynn?” asked Lucy.

“I had my suspicions it was Garcia for awhile,” replied Christopher. “Earlier, when you two mentioned you’d changed routes to work, something started nagging me. At first I couldn’t put my finger on it, but when Flynn returned to our time after barely an hour, my instincts told me he had something to do with Mr. Logan’s disappearance. Because nothing was making any sense.”

Lucy considered this a moment. “Flynn knew we’d be called in the moment he took out the mothership.”

Christopher shifted her weight, tucked her hands into the pockets of her suit. “Exactly. And he probably had ambushes waiting for all of you. But Wyatt was the only one who didn’t divert from his normal route. He drove right into it. Your coffee break, and your traffic problem probably just saved your lives.”

_My god_ , thought Lucy. “But…? Is Wyatt… is he going to be okay?”

Christopher’s lips thinned. “He’s on his way to surgery,” she said. “His truck was hit and thrown into a ditch. The police found him several yards away in a field with two GSWs. One in the abdomen, one in the leg.”

“GSWs?” asked Rufus.

“Gun shot wounds,” replied Christopher.

Lucy fell sideways into Rufus who managed to catch her before she slid to the floor. Rufus ushered into a chair where immediately she curled into herself, elbows resting on her knees, head down as she drew in deep breaths.

For a few minutes, silence grew around her. The night had been tense, with still no end in sight. Wyatt, her rock, the man who held her hand through time and who always fastened her seatbelt, was on his way to surgery, and for what? For being pulled from his life, just like her, and thrust into a time machine without much more than an order to kill Garcia Flynn?

If only she’d let him do it when he had the chance. If only she could go back in time and…

She stopped herself. That trail of thought would only send her mind into a tailspin.

Lucy sat up. Rufus and Christopher stood in front of her. The sounds of the emergency department rushed back into her ears, loud enough to jolt her to her feet. “Do you know for sure Wyatt was ambushed?” she asked, Christopher.

“The arresting officer reported no one else on scene when they arrived,” replied Christopher. “And they found evidence of a shoot-out in the field where they found Mr. Logan.”

“What about the car that ran him off the road?” asked Rufus.

Christopher shook her head. “Two cars, actually. Both unregistered and wiped clean of fingerprints.”

All of them, including Agent Christopher and Connor Mason, wore targets on their back, so it wasn’t a far reach for Lucy to believe this wasn’t just a random act of violence.

She closed her eyes, let everything settle. “Not only are we in danger in the past, now we’re in danger in the present,” she said with an exhaustive sigh.

Christopher’s brow furrowed, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. Lucy recognized the agent’s _tell_ , and anticipated more bad news.

“I’m posting a security detail here,” Christopher said. “I’m not taking any chances. Flynn might still come here looking to finish the job, or you know… start what he missed with the two of you.”

“Great,” grumbled Rufus. “This job just keeps getting better everyday.”

Christopher dismissed herself and moved aside, pulling her cell phone from her pocket as she leaned against a wall. Only a few steps away, Lucy heard the conversation.

“Hello, Jiya? How do you feel about breaking about a half dozen laws? No, I won’t tell Mason, but you are aware of what I do for living, right? Traffic cameras… yes. No time to get authorization… Yes, I’ll talk to Mason about getting you next Saturday off. Let me know when you have something.”

Christopher hung up the phone, her gaze distant, the fingers of her left hand thrumming on her hip. Lucy stood there awkwardly. Her knees began vibrating, she sensed someone watching her. She looked around, but aside from busy hospital staff, she saw only Rufus.

With his hands tucked deep into the front pocket of his hoodie, Rufus glanced over one shoulder then the other. He threw her a nervous smile to which Lucy reciprocated. She couldn’t blame him for feeling skittish, a little paranoia right now seemed rational. Never had someone tried to kill her before.

_Bang._

Lucy jumped. And with heart in throat, she whipped her head around and saw a nurse leaving a washroom down the hall. It was just a door, she sighed.

When she turned back to Rufus, he was pressed against the wall, palms flat and eyes large.

Lucy put a hand to her forehead. “This is going to be a long night.”

to be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Several hours, three cups of vending machine coffee and a lot of pacing later, Wyatt was moved to the recovery room and ready to accept visitors.

Under strict instruction of one visitor at a time, Agent Christopher conferenced with the local police department, Rufus apprised Mason Industries of the situation, and Lucy entered Wyatt’s room alone.

A lump in her throat stopped her in the doorway. Wyatt resembled a mummy on display at a museum. Cocooned by blankets and pillows supporting his body, he was nothing more than a lone head amidst a sea of white sheets and grey blankets.

The machines around him beeped and ticked, and Lucy didn’t know what any of it meant. She stepped forward, paused, drew a deep breath then took another step. Her thighs felt numb, she had to concentrate on lifting each leg to move it forward.

Wyatt turned to her with sleepy eyes, his movements lethargic and his mouth straining to maintain a crooked smile.

Lucy swallowed and clenched her jaw to keep it from trembling. “How… how are you doing?”

“I’ve been worse,” whispered Wyatt.

His right hand slid slowly across the bed toward her. She folded her arms. “How does it get any worse than this?” she asked.

“Rufus could’ve taken the bullets out.”

Wyatt’s pale, and feeble hand lay atop the bunched up sheets. She wanted to touch it, hold it against her cheek, but she couldn’t touch him. The feel of his skin, his warmth, his pain; it would break her. And Wyatt needed her to be strong and confident.

She cleared her throat. “But seriously, how are you?”

Wyatt retracted his hand and traced his fingers over the bandage on his abdomen. “Hurts like hell,” he said. “But they missed everything important. I’ll live.”

Lucy smiled, firmed her voice, but Wyatt’s thoughtful gaze caused her throat to spasm. She hid her reaction by bending forward and resting her arms on the bedside rail. “That’s… that’s good to hear.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” asked Wyatt.

This time Lucy didn’t move fast enough when Wyatt reached for her. His warm fingers wrapped around hers, nearly taking her breath away. Her cheeks flushed, her heart pounded, and she blinked longer than intended.

“Just… worried about you,” she stammered.

He squeezed her fingers before letting go, leaving her skin cold where once his touch warmed her.

“Time’s up. I need to speak with Mr. Logan.”

Lucy looked over her shoulder and saw Agent Christopher standing in the doorway. Lucy nodded to her, smiled sincerely at Wyatt and said her good-byes. Outside the room, she fell against a wall and fanned her watery eyes dry before setting out to look for Rufus.

~Timeless~

It took over a minute for Christopher to address Wyatt. He suspected she was taking in his appearance and assessing his state of mind.

Wyatt didn’t like people looking too closely at him. “Flynn or Rittenhouse?” he asked.

“Flynn.”

“Why me? Taking out the pilot makes more sense. Flynn knows that.”

“I believe it was a coordinated attack against all of you. Flynn returned with the mothership barely an hour after he left. He knew you guys would be called in. But Lucy stopped for coffee and Rufus diverted his route due to traffic. Only you took your normal route.”

Wyatt’s room suddenly became smaller. “You know for a fact he tried to go after them?”

“I had Jiya examine the traffic camera footage along their normal routes. Based on the vehicle patterns and the license plates of several stolen cars parked along the way, I’d say Flynn had each ambush timed to the exact second. Thankfully, Lucy and Rufus changed routes and he only got to you.”

“I’m that expendable, huh?”

“No, you have experience and wit which Lucy and Rufus don’t. It would’ve been a slaughter had he gotten to them.”

“So now what?”

“I don't know.”

“I can’t protect them twenty-four hours a day.”

“We have people for that.”

“People like me.”

“No. Your job is to take out Flynn.”

“And keep my team safe.”

“Yes.” Christopher paused, smiled briefly. “Point taken.”

For another few minutes they spoke about his arrest and subsequent release, how he was doing and how much damage his truck sustained. The old Chevy belonged to his grandfather, and he’d kept it like he’d found it- with folded maps stuffed in the glove box and a long since spent Dallas Cowboy air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror.

Wyatt was possessive of few things in life, his beat up old truck and his team. With the first damaged and the second in danger, and not being able to walk or even sit on his own, he was having difficulty keeping his anxiety in check. Although, he did know what would help ease his restlessness.

“Agent Christopher?”

“Yes?”

Wyatt hiked the blankets at his side, exposing his right thigh, then glanced at her hip where her jacket bulged.

Christopher leaned over the bed as she slid a hand under her suit jacket. “I thought you’d never ask,” she said with a smile. She pulled her gun from its holster, glanced over her shoulder, and placed it at Wyatt’s side.

Wyatt tucked the gun under his leg and dropped the blanket. “Thanks.”

“I’ve posted a security detail outside your room. And rest assured, Lucy and Rufus won’t be alone either,” said Christopher. “Now get some sleep.”

Wyatt didn’t say it, but he knew he’d feel better if Lucy and Rufus were with him. Agent Christopher’s men seemed capable of protecting them, and surely more able than him at the moment, but Wyatt couldn’t squash his protective nature. How could he leave two of the most precious people in his life in someone else’s care?

He wrapped his hand around the gun under his leg, slid his finger along the trigger casing and settled himself for an uneasy sleep.

~Timeless~

Lucy poked Rufus awake. He sprang up, eyes wide and arms flailing until he gained his bearings. He swung his legs off the row of waiting room chairs and scrubbed his face with both hands.

Lucy’s smiled, passed him a cup of coffee. “Here, drink this.”

“If I drink anymore coffee I’ll bleed caffeine,” he said.

“Why don’t you go home?”

“For the same reason you’re not.”

Lucy sipped her coffee. “Make sure Wyatt’s okay.”

Rufus rotated his coffee cup, looking down as he spoke. “Yeah. And you know, other reasons.”

Lucy looked around the quiet, empty waiting room. Through the one window beside her she saw the sun rising outside. The hospital was very still at this time ofmorning, making the background noises usually dismissed as white noise seem like thunder in her ears. Her heart beat in cadence with the ticking clock on the wall, her mind buzzed with the hum of the flourescent lights, and her nerves twitched like the rattle wheels of the stretcher being pushed down the hall.

Her earlier paranoia now in full bloom, she turned to Rufus with a nervous smile. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. But will we?”

Lucy huffed out a breath, releasing the tension in her shoulders. “You to?”

“I’m afraid to go the bathroom alone… just saying.”

“I know what ya mean. I feel like Flynn’s around every corner.”

“And we don’t have Sergeant Delta Force covering our asses.”

Lucy looked down the hall stretching away from the waiting room. Two men in black suits stood a few steps away in the doorway, curly wires dangling from their ears, hands crossed in front of them and eyes constantly sweeping the hall.

_They’re trained. They know what they’re doing_ , she told herself.

But her left leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, and a cold sweat bothered her brow. She felt more exposed and vulnerable than when she’d first stepped inside the time machine.

Coffee spilled on her lap and she looked down and noticed her hands trembling. Her mouth went dry, her chest tightened. She’d never experienced such overwhelming dread before. At least, not since meeting Wyatt.

Her gaze shifted down the hall to Wyatt’s room as her rationality battled with her panic…

“Excuse me,” she said to one of the agents at the door. “Just wondering, but are you by chance ex-special forces?”

The guard turned to her, expression dull as a round object. “No ma’am.”

Lucy clenched her jaw. “Please, don’t call me ma’am.”

Rufus slid forward in his chair, glanced at Lucy before raising his brows at the agent. “But you’re ex-military though, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Lucy breathed out, smiled at Rufus, then suddenly looked back at the guard. “Ever successfully disarm a bomb while a man with a cleaver was trying to kill you?”

“Uh, no ma’am.”

Rufus swallowed, inched to the edge of his seat. “Ever break out of your handcuffs using a rusty nail… then, take out three armed men bent on killing you?”

“Haven’t had the opportunity yet, sir.”

Lucy looked at Rufus, swallowed, then shot to her feet. She ran past the agents and down the hall towards Wyatt’s room.

Rufus tossed his coffee into a trash bin. “Right behind you, sister,” he said, running to catch up to her.

The closer Lucy came to Wyatt’s room, the faster her heart beat in anticipation of safety. She ignored the agents at his door and slid into his room, stopping short the moment she saw Wyatt, and causing Rufus to crash into her like a freight train.

Wyatt was sitting, one hand bracing his side, the other pointing a gun at them.

After a moment, he fell back to the bed with a sigh, clutching his side. “Don’t do that.”

Lucy rushed to him as he slipped the gun under the blankets. “We’re sorry,” she said. “We’re sorry. Oh my god. So sorry.”

“Where did you get a gun? How do I get a gun? And did I just ask that?”

Gritting his teeth and holding his side, Wyatt pushed back into his pillows in what appeared to be a failed attempt at getting comfortable. “Agent Christopher gave me hers,” he said.

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you can, you know, handle a gun right now?”

“No. Yes.”

“You almost shot us,” said Rufus. “My confidence is thoroughly intact.”

Wyatt frowned. “What are you two still doing here?”

Lucy pulled a chair under her and sat. “You know, it’s gonna be kind of lonely here tonight,” she said, a weak smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I should stay with you awhile. Just for a little while. Till you fall asleep or something.”

“Yeah,” replied Wyatt. “Yeah, till I fall asleep or something. Might be awhile though… With you know…” his voice trailed off as he smoothed a hand over his abdominal wound.

“It’s all right,” smiled Lucy. “Don’t think I’ll be sleeping much tonight anyway.”

Rufus cleared his throat and slowly backed toward a chair by the window. He pulled back the curtains to view the sun rising over the city. “Now that I think about it, I might actually be a little too tired to drive home. It’s probably best I stay here too, you know… to um…”

Wyatt smiled warmly. “Make yourself comfortable, Rufus.”

  
~Timeless~

Christopher leaned against the doorframe to Wyatt’s room, watching quietly. Rufus slept tucked under a blanket by the window. Lucy’s head rested on the bed next to Wyatt’s hip, one hand dangling at her side while the other served as a pillow.

The soft beeps and pings of the medical equipment monitoring Wyatt disturbed the silence, but let Christopher relax in the knowledge her soldier was alive.

“Hey,” whispered Wyatt.

Christopher watched him slowly shift on the bed, his face pinched in pain. She entered the room with soft steps, trying not to disturb the others. “Hey yourself,” she replied.

She looked him over, frowning at the deep lines around his eyes and the slight tension of his muscles. He was on guard whether he needed to be or not, and Christopher supposed he always was.

“How are you doing, Wyatt?” she asked.

“Good.”

“Do you need anything?”

“I’ve got everything.”

Christopher glanced at Lucy and Rufus. “I see you do.” She patted his arm, gave it a squeeze. He’d never stop protecting them, never leave a man behind. And he’d fight to his last breath to save them. Just like she’d assumed all those months ago when she recommended him for the job.

“I’ll leave you three alone then,” she said. “Promise me you’ll get some rest?”

Wyatt nodded, nestled into the pillows behind him, but his eyes remained open as Christopher turned to leave.

~Timeless~

The drugs flowing into Wyatt through the IVs dulled his senses, making it difficult, but not impossible, to fight off sleep. Eventually when it launched its full scale assault, he knew he’d be helpless in staving off its influence. He’d have no other choice but to surrender.

He could feel it now, feel sleep slipping past his defences and slowly taking over his brain, so he gripped the gun by his leg tighter, shuffled his shoulders into the pillows and shook his head. Wyatt couldn’t abide surrendering, so staying awake had a little something to do with pride, but a whole lot to do with protecting his team.

After Agent Christopher had left, a nurse came, poking and prodding him in some sort of sadistic game. She even smiled when he winced, although she did manage a muffled apology after ripping the bandage off his knee a little too quickly. She had changed the IV bags and closed the curtains on the windows before leaving. The bright mid-day sun no longer lit the room or warmed the side of his bed, and Wyatt’s eyes finally got relief from the strain of squinting.

Wyatt preferred the dark, liked how it made him feel safe. It provided concealment in battle and hid his emotions when he didn’t feel like sharing.

Unfortunately, his emotions had a way of presenting themselves at the most surprising times.

He licked his lips as memories of Arkansas filled his mind. He’d kissed Lucy to maintain cover, but the moment their lips parted, he’d been wonderstruck. And he remembered looking curiously back at her.

The kiss back in 1934 hadn’t scared him. It had confused him. Loving Jessica as much as he did, he didn’t think it possible to feel anything with anyone else.

A while after her death, his friends tried to convince him life wasn’t over, girls still existed, but Wyatt didn’t want them. In fact, he didn’t think he even needed them. Jessica’s memory was enough to carry him through ten lifetimes.

But when his buddies started moving on with their lives, marrying and having kids, Wyatt missed Jessica more than ever. Her memories no longer satisfied the long nights, and he craved physical closeness. He’d roamed the bars with the singles from his unit, took home random woman, mostly brunettes and redheads- anything that kept him from thinking of Jessica. He tried to fill the burning hole inside him by spending his Saturday nights scrolling through his cell phone looking for a bandaid.

But it never worked. It only compounded guilt on top of his loneliness and regret.

And that’s what confused Wyatt the most about his kiss with Lucy. He hadn’t felt guilt. He’d felt like a regular guy kissing a beautiful girl. Wyatt had almost forgotten what that felt like.

But he wasn’t right for Lucy. His heart had a history too damaged for her to love. And in the off chance something happened between them, Wyatt wanted to make sure Lucy wasn’t just a placebo for his wounded heart. So the timing would have to be perfect.

He ran his hand over the crown of her head, her hair like fine sand under his fingertips. Then he pulled his hand back with a sigh, and tucked it under the blankets where he gripped the gun nestled against his leg.

Now isn’t the time, he brooded as his eyelids slowly dropped closed.

The sound of a muffled ringtone drew Wyatt away from sleep. He looked at Rufus, watched him fumble with his cell phone.

“Yeah, hello,” said Rufus, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

A chime to Wyatt’s right sent his gaze to the side pocket of Lucy’s coat. She woke with a start, looking around the room with frantic eyes till Wyatt smiled, and she seemed to remember where she was.

“Your phone,” Wyatt said.

Lucy went into her pocket and flicked open her phone as she raised it to her ear. “Hello? Yes.”

Lucy stood, a hand over her mouth. “Where? When?”

Rufus came to the bed, his eyes large and throat working as if he’d swallowed a lump of coal.

“Let me guess,” said Wyatt. “Flynn took out the mothership?”

to be continued


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Flynn had left an hour ago, and Wyatt wanted the team moving now. But with Agent Christopher unable to reach Baumgardner, they were short a soldier. _At least she’s doing something_ , he thought. Flynn was out there screwing with history and needed to be stopped.  

It was the last thing Wyatt wanted, but he saw no other way to spring them into action. So he forced out a breath, briefly closed his eyes. “Go without me,” he said.

“No,” replied Lucy. “How? What?”

On the other side of his bed, Christopher pulled her shoulders back and shook her head. “I can’t send them back without protection.”

“Give Rufus a gun,” sighed Wyatt. “I’ve seen him in action. He can handle it.”

Rufus took a step back, bared his palms. “Oh hell no.”

Wyatt trusted Rufus. The computer geek had proven countless times he was capable of doing what needed to be done. “You have to, Rufus,” he said. “Cause it’s either you… or Lucy.”

Rufus ran a hand over his head. “I’m not you, man…”

“You’ve done it before,” said Wyatt. “I have faith in you. Have some in yourself.”

Rufus walked away, bent over and braced his hands on the back of the chair by the window. His changing expressions denoted internal struggle, which Wyatt had confidence would end with him making the right choice.  

He turned to Lucy and smiled. “I can’t go with you. I’m not even going to try. I know I can’t, but you two can.”

“I don’t know,” started Lucy. “What if Flynn…”

Wyatt touched the back of her hand. “What if Flynn does something drastic and changes history in a way we can’t fix? Because you didn’t stop him.”

“You’re actually trying to guilt me into this?”

Wyatt smirked. “If I have to. Look, I don’t like it anymore than you do. Trust me, if I knew I could make it to the door without falling I’d damn well be going with you. But I can’t. So you and Rufus have to do this.”

“Do I get a say in this?” asked Christopher.

“I’ll do it.” Rufus approached the bed, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll do it. In and out. We just need to stop him, right? Not kill him. Besides, you’ve earned the right to do that yourself.”

“If you get the chance, you kill him dead, Rufus,” stated Wyatt. The force of his voice drained him. He closed his eyes for a moment. “Don’t let him go.”

Lucy put a hand on her forehead. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight,” replied Wyatt.

“I said I’ll do it and I will,” stated Rufus. “But if Lucy and I get killed, I’m totally coming back to haunt you. And I’m talking total Stephen King stuff here.” 

Wyatt smirked. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“Again,” said Christopher. “Do I have a say in this?”

Lucy looked at her. “What do you suggest?”

Christopher’s hardened gaze flicked to each of their faces. Wyatt sensed the gears working overtime in her brain, hoping in the end she’d see reason.

“I can’t say I’m happy,” Christopher replied. “But what are we waiting for? Let’s go get Rufus a gun.”

_~Timeless~_

“This is a one time deal,” stated Christopher. She sat in the hatchway of the lifeboat and passed Rufus a pistol. As his fingers wrapped around the weapon, Christopher looked him in the eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

Rufus shook his head. “Yes.”

“Way to instil confidence,” chided Lucy. She buckled herself into her seat, her hands fumbling with the latches.

“Is something wrong?” asked Christopher.

Lucy’s lips twitched before forming a smile. “Besides the obvious?”

The situation was far from ideal. Christopher had her doubts as well. “Look, if you want to…”

“No. I’m fine,” stated Lucy. “It’s just, Wyatt usually does my…” She finished her statement with a dismissive wave. “Never mind. Let’s just do this.”

Christopher pulled out of the hatch and slid down the outside of the lifeboat till her feet touched ground.   She looked back into the eye of the cyborg where she caught Lucy staring at her.

“Are we sure we’re doing the smart thing?” asked Lucy.

“Smart… yes,” replied Rufus. “Intelligent, possibly not.”

Christopher frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Smart is knowing a tomato is a fruit,” replied Rufus. “Intelligence is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad.”

Christopher shook her head, but understood his point. It was right to go after Flynn, but it wasn’t ideal sending them with a computer coder as protection.

“Good luck,” she said over her shoulder, then turned and headed for the bank of computers at the far end of the room. She passed Connor Mason on her way, who stopped her with a hand on her arm. 

Christopher cocked an eyebrow, looked at her elbow and Mason retracted his hand.

“Sorry,” he said. “But, are we really okay with this?”

“Not really, but we’re doing it anyway.” 

“Right,” replied Mason. “Guess we should get out of the way, then.”

They cleared the time machine’s take-off zone and stood behind Jiya at her computer station. The lifeboat roared, shook and rattled. A gust of wind knocked them back and the lifeboat winked out of existence.

“Now what?” asked Mason.

“Now I go home, catch a few hours of sleep and go back to the hospital,” replied Christopher. “Call me the moment that thing returns to the present.”

“Will do,” said Mason.

Christopher looked at Jiya.

“The moment it returns,” stated Jiya.

Mason appeared offended she’d asked Jiya, but Christopher didn’t care. Her car was outside, her bed at home and Wyatt in the hospital. She left Mason Industries with the intentions of acquainting herself with each.

_~Timeless~_

Christopher leaned against the doorframe of Wyatt’s room, arms crossed over her chest as the doctors finished their examinations.   She didn’t doubt he’d heal quick, the injuries weren’t life threatening, and figured he’d be back with his team soon enough. _If a team is still needed_ , she thought.

She hoped it wouldn’t, but believed it would. Although Wyatt trusted Rufus to kill Flynn, Christopher had her doubts.

When the doctors left, she pushed off the doorframe and entered his room, ready to give the update she knew he craved.

“Are they gone?” asked Wyatt.

“They left a few hours ago,” she replied. “I got some rest and changed my clothes.”

Wyatt’s eyes danced around the room, settling on nothing as he adjusted himself on the bed.

“You know,” said Christopher. “I was shot once. In the leg. It was a long time ago, but I remember it hurting like a son-of-a-bitch.” Wyatt smiled and Christopher knew he was placating her, but she hadn’t made her point yet.  

“It happened back on the force,” she continued. “I was young, way too eager and thought… I don’t need back up, that’s what my partners’ for. Sure enough, the drunk stumbling down the street at three am tripped over his own feet and fired his gun.”

“And hit you?” 

“No actually. I don’t know where that bullet ever went. It was his attacker who got me. Wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that this guy, this drunk guy walking down the street carrying a gun, was actually trying to get away from someone trying to kill him. The shot came from down the street and I dropped like a sack of potatoes. From that day on I swore I’d never go into a situation blind.”

Wyatt’s eyebrows pulled together. Christopher patted his arm with a warm smile. “Just because I knew how to be a cop, it didn’t mean I knew what I was doing.”

“You’re worried about Rufus,” stated Wyatt.

“You’re damn right I am. He may know how to use a gun, but as the saying goes… training is learning the rules, experience is knowing the exceptions.”

Wyatt smiled. “Have faith. Rufus knows what he’s doing. So does Lucy. They’ll look out for each other.”

_~Timeless~_

“Why today? Why now?” asked Rufus, following close on Lucy’s heels as they crossed the street.

“I don’t know,” replied Lucy. “There’s George Washington, Benedict Arnold and oh yeah, the entire American Revolution. But nothing particular happens on this day. Nothing significant occurs for at least another week.”

Rufus leaned over her shoulder, his breath hot on her cheek as he spoke. “So you think Flynn wants to kill Washington? Well, that would certainly screw things up.”

Lucy led Rufus around a corner and entered a long street filled with horse drawn carriages and women in colourful colonial gowns strolling the sides of a heavily travelled road. Soldiers in blue gathered in small groups on corners and in storefronts, chatting and winking as the woman passed by. The sun was high, setting the bucolic scene of 1780s New York in a glow more spectacular than any historical painting Lucy had ever seen.

Lucy drew in a deep breath, savoured the pungency of manure and baking bread from a nearby bakery. Her eyes settled across the street to a two-storey, red brick building, still new and vibrant. She wanted to take in every detail and devour each moment, but Wyatt’s voice in her head kept telling her they had a job to do.

If it weren’t for Wyatt reinforcing the urgency of their missions, she fathomed she’d lose herself in the historical splendour of each new era they visited.

She shook her head, fought back a smile. “Who knows why Flynn came here. Maybe to kill Washington. Maybe not.”

Lucy hated not being prepared, but she couldn’t figure out where to start. She needed focus, and the most focused person she knew was Wyatt, so she thought about what he would do in this situation.

_Find Flynn_ , that’s what he'd say.   As if it were the easiest thing in the world to do.

But it gave her an idea. She stopped and turned to Rufus. “We should split up.”

Rufus rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m not so comfortable with that.”

Lucy wasn’t either, but it would help them find Flynn faster. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“Is going home an option?”

Lucy frowned. She understood his concern. Without Wyatt, they were exposed and vulnerable to things she and Rufus rarely considered, like ambushes and kidnapping. Every clacking carriage and shouted greeting in the distance had her looking over her shoulders.

“Then let’s ask around,” she suggested, looking into the window of a nearby storefront. “Unless Flynn’s hiding that accent of his, people should remember him.”

Lucy went to the door, pulled it open and looked back to see Rufus leaning against a street lamp.

“I’ll just wait out here,” he said. “You know, keep an eye out.”

Lucy looked down and smiled. “Probably for the best,” she said.

She opened the door and entered the small store, relief washing over her as four walls now protected her. In front of her, a man wearing an apron stood behind a counter, his gruff expression turning soft when Lucy waved.

She passed the displays of hardware items and piles of grain on the floor, peeking around each shelf in anticipation of seeing Flynn, until she reached the storekeeper.

“Good-day,” she said. “I was wondering if you could help me?”

“Anything for you, ma’am,” replied the storekeeper. He twisted one side of his greasy moustache as his eyes roamed up and down her body.   Lucy clenched her teeth behind her smile and held it together. 

“Are you looking for some of the new silk which arrived recently from India?” he asked, nodding to a large roll of red silk sitting on the counter. “The women seem very excited to get their hands on that. I’ve had their husbands coming in…”

Lucy smiled and raised a hand to stop him. “No, actually I’m looking for someone. Tall, dark hair. Generally considered handsome by most. He has a foreign accent, most likely something you’ve never heard before.”

The man’s head pulled back. He rubbed his chest and pushed out a long breath. “Oh, I saw a man of similar description come through here earlier. He was looking for some supplies.”

Lucy leaned on the counter. “Do you know where he went?”

The man shook his head. “No, wait,” he said, pointing a finger at the ceiling. “Some of the men with him mentioned Hastings Corner. It’s the rooming house on Fifth Street.”

Lucy smiled. “Thank-you very much,” she said, pushing off the counter and heading for the door.

“Miss! Wait! Did you want any of the silk…”

The shop’s door closed behind her, cutting off the man’s question. Rufus came to her when she stepped into the street, and she motioned for him to follow as she headed west. “I think he’s at a rooming house around the corner,” she said, hoping she remembered her streets correctly. It had been a long time since she last visited New York, so she hoped more than trusted her directions were right.

“So what’s the plan?” asked Rufus, falling into step beside her.

“We stop Flynn,” she replied.

“How exactly?”

“Haven’t gotten to that part yet.” 

Hoping something would spring to mind before arriving at the rooming house, Lucy hurried down the street, but nothing came to her. And as they stood outside the two storey brick building with a painted sign stating they were at the right place, her foot started tapping and her fingers dug deeper into her arms which were crossed over her chest.

“Maybe we should take a lesson from Wyatt’s _How to Guide_ _for Time Travelling_?” she asked. “You know, make it up as we go along?”

Rufus chuckled. “Well, if he can’t be here physically, at least he can be here in spirit.” He motioned with his hand for her to go first. “Lay on, Mac Duff.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t take you for a Shakespeare fan?”

“I’ll have you know,” replied Rufus, with a nod. “There’s plenty of very compelling comparisons to be made between Shakespeare and Star Wars.”

Lucy shook her head and reached for the door.

_~Timeless~_

Wyatt didn’t know when the intangible became tangible, but he was certain the knife twisting in his lower leg and abdomen brought him reeling back to wakefulness.

“Damn it,” he groaned, pushing himself up in the bed to relieve the tension on his spine.

Agent Christopher appeared beside him, her right hand shooting to his shoulder where she touched him gently. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

It was a voice Wyatt wasn’t used to, one reserved for sick children or loved ones. It was nice, but it made him uncomfortable. “I’m good,” he said. “Think the medications are wearing off.”

He shifted again, causing spasms in his side and knee, and reaffirming his earlier decision to stay behind while his team went after Flynn.

Agent Christopher retracted her hand and pulled the blankets up his body. “If you say so.”

Wyatt really wanted the attention off him, so he swallowed down his aches and pains and wrangled his expression neutral. “Are they back?”

“Not yet.”

“You don’t have to be here,” he said, winking at her. “I’m a big boy.”

Christopher frowned and sat on the chair next to the bed. “You’re right. I don’t have to be here,” she said, “I want to be. I may not be travelling through time with the three of you, but you’re still my team, my responsibility. I made a very tough decision not going with Lucy and Rufus. I’m trusting in your trust in them. Besides, if Rufus thinks it’s hard for him in American history, what do you think it would be like for a woman of my ethnicity?” She chuckled and shook her head.

They remained silent for a few minutes, Christopher looking into her lap while Wyatt concentrated on his ebbing pain. He supposed everything hurt so much when he first awoke because of the dwindling effects of the medication, but also from laying still for too long. But as he moved his left leg it was of a dull ache bothering his knee and no longer a stabbing pain.

He considered it progress. After all, a gunshot shot wound was only an obstacle, a painful inconvenience to work around.

Injuries were part of his job, and this wasn’t his first rodeo. Rest was needed to get over the initial hump, but his strength would return soon enough and he’d be fit for duty and ready to re-join his team.

He worried for them, but had confidence Lucy would get Rufus through the hard stuff, like helping them blend into whatever era Flynn had gone to, and keep the tedious points of history on track. And Rufus would make sure she came back safe, and with some luck, kill Flynn in the process.

In and out. A smooth op. He wasn’t even needed.

A cold sensation crept up his body as the beep, beep, beep of the monitor beside him picked up its pace, and although lying down, butterflies seemed to dance in his head.

He’d be damn proud of Lucy and Rufus if they succeeded, but where the hell did that leave him?

Wyatt had turned down Baumgardner for a mission overseas. The real deal, his friend had said, but Wyatt wanted to stay here. No one could deny the attraction of time travel, but adventure wasn’t his motivation to stay. He’d found a place with Lucy and Rufus, and he genuinely liked them. More significantly, he needed them. 

But would they still need him?

He looked at Christopher who was watching him from the chair, her brow furrowed.

“You all right?” she asked. “You look a little lost.”

Wyatt licked his lips, opened his mouth, and closed it. He blinked several times and tried again, adding a smirk to hide his unease. “Guess I’ll be out of a job if they make it back in one piece, huh?”

Christopher shook her head, indicating to Wyatt she held no stock in his concern. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Master Sergeant,” she said. “They may come back alive, but I’m betting Flynn will too. Besides, we don’t have the right to ask Rufus to continue as guardian. He’s a computer geek, not a soldier. And we have no business turning him into one.”

Guilt slipped into the hole left behind by his slowly diminishing anxiety. For a brief moment, Wyatt had hoped his team would fail. _God_ , he thought, _I’m going to hell_.  

_~Timeless~_

Lucy bit her lip, her eyes flicking between Rufus and the door to Flynn’s room. “You go first.”

“I thought it was woman first?”

“You have the gun.”

Rufus looked down where he held a black pistol between two shaking hands. “Right. Well, here we go.”

With the gun raised in one hand, Rufus reached for the doorknob with his other, pausing to wipe the sweat from his palm before making contact.

Lucy held her breath, and braced herself for whatever might happen.

Rufus took three quick breaths, opened the door and gripped the gun with two hands. He stepped into the room, peered around the door, then lowered the weapon and turned to Lucy. “No one’s here.”

Lucy stuck her head into the room. It was small and crammed with three small cots, a battered table and one tall dresser. She slipped into the room and took a closer look. The faded striped wallpaper was peeling in the corners, the floor creaked with each shift in her weight, and the room smelled of oil and must. But there was nothing indicating anyone had been here for a while, other than the ruffled corner of a bedspread where someone might have sat.

“Should we wait?” asked Rufus, walking to the window. He pulled back the curtain and looked down to the street below.

“I… I don’t know,” replied Lucy. “Is he coming back?” She spun around, taking in the room again as if she’d find answers to her own question.

“Oh crap.”

Lucy’s eyes widened, her heart leapt into her throat. “What?”

Rufus released the curtain and stepped back from the window. “He’s here.”

“Flynn’s here? Now?”

“Um, yeah,” replied Rufus. “Him and two of his goons just walked in the front door.”

“So, um… we should get ready or something.” Unsure where to put herself, Lucy his behind the door before moving to the end of one of the cots, then to the window. Flustered, her thoughts kept leading to how much she missed Wyatt right now.

She turned to Rufus, flashed him a nervous smile to help bolster her own confidence, but he wasn’t looking at her. With his feet planted on the floor, the gun raised and eyes focused on the door, Rufus looked every part the protector Wyatt was, except for the trembling hands, sweat drenched forehead and gentle sway of his body.

Lucy opened her mouth to offer encouragement when voices in the hallway grabbed her attention.

A man’s voice, muffled and baritone was talking on the other side of the door. Lucy cocked an ear, held her breath.

“How hard…find…dick… Arnold?”

Another voice spoke, this one in a familiar accent. “I’ll find him… I just… time. We’ll come… back.”

The doorknob turned slowly with a squeak. Rufus swayed toward Lucy as she inched closer to him.

“Well, it’s now or never,” said Rufus, re-adjusting his grip on the gun.

“Yep.” 

The door opened and Flynn stepped into the room.

Rufus trembled. Lucy swallowed, and Flynn pulled out his pistol.

“Now why doesn’t this surprise me?” he said, lips curling into a smile.

to be continued    


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Flynn smiled as he peered around the door, then levelled his stare back on Rufus. “So, uh, where’s Wyatt?”

Lucy stepped forward. “You know exactly where he is you son-of-a-bitch!”

“Now, now, Lucy. Language.”

“Go to hell, Flynn.”

Flynn shrugged. “It is in my future. But right now, that’s not important. It seems we have a bit of a stand-off happening here.”

Rufus shifted his weight, licked his lips. Lucy bit her lip as he re-adjusted the gun in his grip. “Wyatt’s taught me how to use this,” he said. “I’m not scared.”

Flynn’s lips slowly stretched into a smirk. “But, uh, you’re not Wyatt, Rufus.”

“No. I’m not. But I’ve killed someone before.”

“In self-defence, so I’m told. But the real question is, can you shoot an unarmed man?” Flynn released his gun, letting it dangle from his index finger for a moment before tossing it onto a bed.

Rufus swiped a hand across his forehead. Lucy saw the gun shaking in his hands, heard his stuttering breaths.

“I can’t… I can’t do it.” Rufus lowered his weapon.

Her left hand twitching, Lucy leaned into Rufus, then she pulled back. Flynn was slowly backing out of the room.

She snatched the gun from Rufus and pointed it at an empty doorway. “Where’d he go?”

Lucy ran into the hall, looked in both directions.

Her heartbeat rattled her ribcage, her thoughts scattered in every direction. Flynn and his men were disappearing down the staircase at the end of the hall, and her momentum along with them. She couldn’t kill him now, armed or otherwise, but for one moment she thought she could.

She grunted, stomped her foot. “Damn it.” She trudged back into the room, dropped onto the corner of a bed and buried her face in a hand. One little motion. One tiny movement of her finger could have ended this. Why was it so hard?

“Wyatt trusted me to do this.”

Lucy looked up at Rufus. For all Wyatt did, she never took the time to truly understand how he did it. And she hadn’t realized the implications of his job until now. Who was this person who killed a Nazi soldier for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time?   Who was this man who used a woman as bait in order to get the job done faster? What makes a person capable of doing such things?

She realized there was more to Wyatt than just being a soldier.   It wasn’t just a title anymore, or his position on the team, it was an indication of who he was, what he could do. There were depths to him Lucy couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Who was he, really? What motivated his actions? The fact she was even wondering this, frightened her. Especially after what she’d felt during their kiss in Arkansas.

She swallowed as she stood, deciding that trail of thought would be better suited alone over a tall glass of wine. “He’ll understand,” she said, patting Rufus’ arm.

“So, should we go?”

“Yeah. We’ll check in the lifeboat to see if he’s returned to the present. Hopefully he has. I’m about done with this place.”

Lucy grabbed Flynn’s discarded gun and followed Rufus out the door.

_~Timeless~_

At this late hour, Wyatt’s hospital room was just how he liked it, dark and still. There were no shadows to trick his eyes, no one there to see the emotions he found so difficult to suppress.

He was so tired of battling sleep; but when he gave in and closed his eyes, thoughts of his team’s mission cycled through his mind, preventing him from getting any rest. He wished they would fail, and the guilt pounded a beat in his head, freezing his furrowed brow in an endless ache.

Wyatt closed his eyes. _Just for a few seconds_ , he said to himself. _Think of nothing. An open desert… a calm ocean_. He was falling, drifting, his muscles relaxing, a warm haze wrapping around his brain.

_Did they kill Flynn?_

His eyes sprang open. His heart pounded as coldness swept through him with swiftness his body wasn’t prepared for. He shivered and suddenly didn’t want the room so dark anymore. It needed to be filled with light, with Lucy and Rufus, even with Agent Christopher who’d only just left an hour ago.  

After receiving word the mothership had returned, she’d left wanting to be present for Lucy and Rufus’ arrival. Wyatt expected them all to come through the door to his room any minute, but the anticipation, dread and exhaustion made the wait unbearable.

Agent Christopher flipping on the overhead lights nearly an hour later, pronounced the arrival of the three in question.

Wyatt clenched his eyes shut. It wouldn’t help his headache, but he could ignore the glare piercing his skull if it meant seeing his team, so he slowly re-opened them.

Rufus stood next to the bed, white-knuckling the side rail. “I couldn’t do it,” he said, shaking his head.

His face drawn, his shoulders slumped; Wyatt couldn’t lock onto his wandering eyes no matter how hard tried. But he wanted eye contact before telling him it was okay, that coming back alive was more important.

What he’d keep from Rufus was the burgeoning smile pulling on his lips.

“Did you get the chance?” he asked, clearing his throat.

“Yes.”

“Flynn put his gun down,” said Lucy. “Rufus, nor I, could shoot an unarmed man, so he got away.”

Lucy stood on the other side of the bed, her hair falling in thick strands around her face, her words spoken matter-of-factly. Wyatt loved her dishevelled look, respected the emotional detachment in her voice when she was joking, but right now it was demonstrating her exhaustion and frustration, not playful aloofness.

He smiled at her and nodded as Christopher’s words repeated in his mind. “We have no right turning him into a soldier.”

_No_ , he thought. _That’s my job_.

“But equally as important,” said Agent Christopher. “Flynn didn’t change history.”

Wyatt looked at Christopher. “What was he doing? Where’d he go?”

“Doesn’t really matter. He didn’t do anything,” replied Lucy, letting out a long breath.

Wyatt knew for her to say such a thing, she had to be discouraged. His heart ached seeing her this way.

“It actually kinda sounded like he was looking for someone, but couldn't find him,” added Rufus.

Wyatt turned to him. “Who was he looking for?”

“I’m sure the next time he takes out the mothership we’ll find out,” replied Christopher.

_Yes. Next time,_ thought Wyatt. _Thank god_.

He took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He didn’t have to fret over his selfishness if his team still needed him. Dealing with it would only get in the way of him doing his job, which was killing Flynn. And he would suppress the selfish part of him for as long as it took so the team never found out it even existed. _It’s not like they haven’t kept secrets from me_ , he reasoned.

“Wow, you look really tired,” said Rufus.

Wyatt smirked. “Haven’t slept much.”

“We should leave you to it, then,” suggested Christopher.

Wyatt agreed. Lucy and Rufus were back safe, Flynn hadn’t screwed up history and he still had a job to do, a team to protect.   He nodded, they said their good-byes, but as Lucy retreated from the bed, he called to her.

“Hey, Lucy.”

Lucy turned back with a smile, her eyebrows raised, her body canted slightly toward the bed. “Yes?”

Wyatt flicked his wrist, summoning her back to him, and she was there right away. He took her hand in his, ran his thumb over the soft skin above her knuckles. “I’m glad you guys made it back. We, uh, really shouldn’t be putting Rufus in that position.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” she replied, smiling. “We missed you out there. And I really, really, don’t want to go without you again. Like, ever.”

Wyatt smiled. “Good. Cause I really don’t want you to leave again… on a mission… without me. Ever.”

“Then don’t go getting yourself shot.”

Wyatt winked. “I’ll try not to.”

Lucy pulled her hand out of his, brushed away the fallen hair on his forehead and leaving behind a tingle where her fingertips had touched his skin. “Get some sleep,” she said. “We’re going to need you when Flynn goes back out again.”

Wyatt smiled, and closed his eyes. “Will do, ma’am.”

_The End._

_Thanks to the writers at the Writer’s Anonymous forum on ff.net for all their advice and critiques. This means, MagpieTales, Absolute Elsewhere, Move Pen Move, Zbluez and cathrl. I hope I didn’t miss anyone, because your help was invaluable._


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